


Swimming Between Islands

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bullying, F/F, High School, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Starting Over, Teen Romance, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: AU After 2x18. Between coping with several fading friendships, his role in Midge's death, his father losing his job, trying to get Fred elected as Riverdale's mayor, and Cheryl making his life miserable at school, Kevin is close to running on empty. But as he struggles to fight his way through the chaos around him, he finds himself starting some surprising new relationships as well as renewing an old one.





	Swimming Between Islands

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone reading! If you ever want to chat, here's my [Tumblr](http://maeve-of-winter.tumblr.com/). I love discussion and hearing people's thoughts, so feel free to submit ideas or just talk Riverdale.

"Imagine if you went ice skating on a lake, and you skated over a patch of ice too thin to bear your weight. Imagine then that the ice all broke apart into islands and drifted away from you. The islands are things which keep you safe, or a reward or a special occasion. Another island is a good grade at school, or a home run in baseball. But it takes effort to get there, see? A lot of effort. You have to swim to the islands. And sometimes, when you get there . . . sometimes you don't get to rest for very long before you have to get back in the water. Life is mostly swimming between islands."

-OzQueen, "Sink"

 

* * *

 

Upon Midge’s death, a memorial had been erected for her in the corner of the high school front lobby. A large framed photograph of her in her River Vixens uniform was placed on a table, and with a blank piece of white poster board nearby so students could write their final thoughts to Midge. Not only had it quickly filled with heartfelt messages, but numerous students also had gone above and beyond, bringing stuffed animals, handwritten letters, and bouquets of flowers to leave on the table by her photograph.

Now, with classes finished for the day and most of the students and faculty gone, Kevin approached the table, a bouquet of dogwood flowers in his hand. In Christian lore, the flowers symbolized resurrection, purity, and strength, as well as regret over a specific decision. But even though he had numerous regrets where Midge was concerned, that hadn’t been why Kevin had brought them. He’d remembered that on the night that Midge had seen him sitting alone at Pop’s and unhesitatingly invited him to dine with her and Moose, her earrings had been in the shape of dogwood blossoms. He liked to think this particular type of flower was meaningful to her, that if she’d been alive, she’d be happy with his selection.

Looking at the picture of Midge giving a genuine smile, with no idea of what horrific end was coming for her, Kevin felt a mix of grief, anger, and guilt warring within him. He hadn’t known Midge very well, but she’d been one of the most legitimately nice people he’d ever met. That night at the diner, when she’d seen him alone and went out of her way to make him feel better, was the nicest anyone had been to him in a long time. It was even more nice considering the reason he’d been alone that night: Veronica had held a party at her parents’ cabin for Archie, Betty, Jughead, and herself, but had very deliberately not invited him.

_ “It’s a couples weekend,”  _ Veronica had said during lunch with a shrug.  _ “And, well, sorry, Kev, but you’re not part of a couple.” _

_ “She’s right,”  _ Betty had agreed.  _ “You haven’t dated anyone since Joaquin left. And it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be coming back for you anytime soon, does it?”  _ she added teasingly.

Even though Betty’s tone had been joking, Kevin had felt his face burn with hurt and humiliation.

At the end of the day, Midge had been much more concerned and caring toward him than his supposed friends. Veronica’s chief priority had been cultivating her exclusionary clique, and Betty didn’t care about him as long as she got the coveted spot as Veronica’s best friend, which was old news at this point, really. Since Veronica had come to town, Betty hadn’t had the time of day for him. It was a tale as old as time itself: a fairweather friend who ditched their supposed bestie the moment they realized they could upgrade to cooler crowd.

It wasn’t anything unique; Kevin was sure it happened to people all of the time. But it still hurt.

But Midge had cared about Kevin even when Veronica and Betty didn’t give a damn. She had gone out of her way to be kind and generous even when it interrupted her date with Moose.

And look how life had repaid her. Look how _ he  _ had repaid her. 

A fresh wave of guilt crashed over  him, bringing both his head and his heart to ache. He’d been over his decisions to recast Midge in the musical dozens of times, berating himself for not showing his father the supposed Black Hood’s letters that he’d desperately tried to convince himself were a prank.

If only he had gone to his father sooner, Midge might still be alive.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin whispered to her, tears prickling the back of his eyes. “I failed you. You deserved so much better than what you got.”

For a moment, he lightly traced his fingers down the glass pane, trying to force the tears back and wishing with all of his might he could reverse all of his mistakes. Not just in the musical, but with Moose, for agreeing to hook up with him that night of the back-to-school dance. Even if they hadn’t actually done anything, he still couldn’t help but feel incredibly ashamed that he’d been willing to go behind Midge’s back, especially when she’d had nothing but goodwill toward him. 

“I’ll always remember you,” he said softly to the photograph, unable to blink back the tears any longer.

Unable to stand the suffocating sense of grief and anger any longer, Kevin rushed from the lobby, striding toward the double doors and shoving them open, momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight as he walked outside. Tears were sliding down his face, but he impatiently used his sleeve to brush them away.

He would always be grieving for Midge. But right now, his pain couldn’t be his focus. Right now, he had work to do.

* * *

When he had been directing the musical at the same time as wrestling for Riverdale High, Kevin had thought he’d been busy. He’d thought it had been exhausting to wake up, go to school, go to wrestling practice, grab a quick shower, go to rehearsal for the musical and try to prevent it from being an utter to disaster, and then go home and collapse into bed.

But then the Black Hood had returned, used Kevin’s own musical to murder Midge, and put his father’s job in jeopardy. 

And then Kevin had known that whatever effort he’d been putting forth before, it needed to be quadrupled if he wanted to stop his life from crashing down around him.

These days, every night was a late night. Every morning was an early morning. Lunch periods at school were spent completing tasks for the Andrews campaign, meeting with other students working for the campaign, or doing his homework so he could immediately start working on the campaign the moment wrestling practice finished. 

Previously, he’d been motivated by wanting to do well for his friends, his school, but especially his father. But the former two had just been vague impulses, general well intentions but nothing clear, nothing truly, desperately heartfelt.

Now, it was all different. Now, it wasn’t just that he wanted to do well—the livelihood of himself and his father depended on doing well. It was either succeed or die.

Fred Andrews needed to become mayor. If he didn’t, Kevin’s father was out of a job.

Time to mobilize.

With Archie having turned his back on his father and remaining firmly with the Lodges, the task of organizing the student volunteers for the Andrews campaign had fell to Jughead. He had already assembled a group of Riverdale students, both Southside and Northside. They were helping anyone over eighteen register to vote by going into neighborhoods, stationing themselves outside of grocery stores and community centers, and visiting retirement homes. They were holding rallies, raising awareness of Fred’s platforms, and spreading the word about the Lodges’ checkered past and future plans for Riverdale.

When Kevin approached them to volunteer, Toni didn’t hesitate to make her skepticism known.

“Let me guess,” she said with a certain weariness. “You’re going this for your dad? To protect him from the big bad Lodges?”

Kevin struggled to keep his tone neutral. “And if I am?”

“Then I can at least appreciate the help, if not the intention,” Toni replied with a shrug. “Let me tell you why I support Fred Andrews: compared to the Lodges, he looks less bad. That’s it. That’s why I like him. He’s never cared that much about the Southside, true, and that normally wouldn’t earn any points from me. But at least he’s doesn’t want to build a prison and fill it with Southsiders.”

Taken aback, Kevin paused, studying Toni and trying to determine if her words were hyperbole. “You think the Southside’s going to be targeted?”

Toni heaved an impatient sigh. “Yes. I mean, Kevin, if the prison is designed to make a profit, if there’s a bottom line for putting people there and making them stay there, do you think there’s going to much hesitation to get as many people in there as possible? To deny them parole or make up some BS charge to prevent them from getting out early? It’s not going to be about justice. It’s going to be all about money, how much profit they can earn off the backs of inmates. And those inmates aren’t going to be you Northsiders. It’s going to be those us on the Southside.”

“But as long as you don’t do anything wrong—” Kevin began, but Toni wasn’t having it.

“Kevin, listen. You don’t get it because you’ve always had the law working for you. You don’t understand what it’s like to have people look at you and decide in an instant that you must be a thief or a criminal because of how you dress or the color of your skin. And before you ask, yes, this was happening to me even before I put on the Serpents jacket.” Toni gazed at him steadily. “In a court of law, it’s supposed to be a fair trial, but let’s face it: it often isn’t. Either because the defendant can’t afford a good lawyer and has to depend on an overworked and underpaid public defender, or because the jury is biased, or because it’s a trumped up, nonsense charge that never should have happened in the first place. Some people end up in prison for years simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the Lodge’s prison? It’s only going to produce more corruption, encourage the imprisonment of innocent people. That’s what happens when money is on the table.”

The deluge of information was a lot to process, but Kevin found himself nodding. “I can’t exactly say that I’m filled with faith in any of the Lodges to do the right thing.”

“Well, it’s a start. Here. Toni thrust a clipboard at him. “You’ll be going door to door.” 

“You want to make me a face of this campaign?” Kevin questioned, both flattered and vaguely panicked at the idea.

“You look pretty respectable, and people are shallow,” she noted. “You’ll make a good impression, and that’s essential when it comes to winning the good citizens of Riverdale over to our side.”

“That’s awfully cynical,” Kevin observed, even as he grabbed extra voter registration forms and pamphlets about Fred’s positions.

“Their biases, not mine,” Toni said firmly, handing over a printed map with red circles drawn in marker and a list of street names. “These are neighborhoods with a high concentration of elderly citizens, an often overlooked demographic in elections,” she explained. “Trust me, they’ll love your _ Hardy Boys _ look. Go out there with your sweater and khakis, smile, speak confidently, and we’ll get their votes.”

She wasn’t wrong. Knocking of the doors of the elderly residents of Riverdale resulted in countless occasions of Kevin being invited in for tea and conversation by people he suspected were lonely and desperate for company. They were eager to hear about his life and the reason for his visit, and Kevin would lie and pretend that everything was going  _ swell _ , just  _ swell _ for him, and act like he was interested in listening to them talk about their lives. He did his best to be patient, hear their concerns, and try to respond to them by bringing up Fred’s candidacy when relevant.

Whenever he left them after finishing his spiel, usually making vague, noncommittal platitudes as they eagerly requested he visit them again, Kevin could never quite put aside a lingering feeling of guilt for using them. But time was limited, he knew, with election day rapidly approaching. As callous as it sounded, between wrestling, campaigning, his home life, and school, he simply didn’t have time to devote special attention to relative strangers. Hell, these days, he had no free time whatsoever.

But his father had plenty of free time on his hands these days, which worried Kevin significantly. Ever since the night when he’d walked into his father’s study and found him there, already drunk and drinking more, his loaded gun out on his desk while he berated himself for his failures, Kevin had felt more than a little uneasy about leaving his father alone.

But his father did seem to be using his time constructively, which eased Kevin’s concerns slightly though significantly. While Kevin had previously taken care of many of the household chores and cooking meals due to the long hours his father was required to work, now their roles had switched. These days, he was the one to stumble in sometime during the late evening, tension coiled in his limbs, a dull headache throbbing into sharpness at the base of his skull, and weariness washing over his entire body. When he did, his father was waiting at home for him with dinner ready, just like Kevin had done when he was working.

“There you are,” Tom said when he finally walked in the door at a quarter to eleven on a Thursday night after helping out with another rally for Fred. “I was beginning to worry. Come on, sit down and have some dinner.”

Kevin shook his head and began walking toward the staircase. “Thanks, Dad, I appreciate it. But I’m really too tired to be hungry.”

Frowning, Tom reached out and snagged his arm, preventing him from leaving. “Kevin, sit down and have something to eat. I will not have you running yourself into the ground and not taking care of yourself,” he said firmly.  

Seeing the seriousness on his dad’s face, Kevin gave in and allowed himself to be led to the table. “Okay. But I want you to know that you don’t have to keep making dinner for me,” he told him. “I know I’ve been getting home late, so it’s fine if you want to go to bed. I can always get whatever’s in the fridge.”

“I want to make sure you’re eating enough, sweetheart,” Tom replied, giving Kevin a kiss on the head as he place a plate piled with roast beef and candied sweet potatoes before him. “You’ve been working around the clock, and I don’t want you making yourself sick. Besides, I should be the one taking care of you, remember? With how busy you are, making sure you’re well fed is the least I can do.” He reached out and tenderly smoothed a lock of hair away from Kevin’s forehead. “I want to take care of you. And this . . . well.” Tom let out a short breath. “This is the only way I can right now.”

“Hey.” Kevin laid a hand on his dad’s arm. “I’m going to help Mr. Andrews win this election. And once he does, you’ll be reinstated as sheriff, and then everything will go back to normal.”

Tom didn’t respond. For a moment, he looked at Kevin and seemed to be about to speak, but then he looked away.

Realizing something was wrong, Kevin set down his fork. “Dad, what is it?”

A look of weariness descended on Tom’s face, and he rubbed at his forehead with one hand. “Kevin, I appreciate all that you’re doing for us and to get me my job back. But it would be naïve not to consider the worst, that Hermione Lodge might get elected. So, I’ve made some calls, and I’ve found an open position for sheriff in a county that’s a while away from here.”

Kevin swallowed, knowing what his father was getting at. “How far away is ‘a while’?”

Tom hesitated before replying. “In southern Wyoming.”

Stunned, Kevin simply sat there for a few moments, absorbing his father’s words. Several times he wanted to open his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t seem to form a sentence in his mind to speak. But even in his shock, he knew being upset with the circumstances would be useless. Leaving Riverdale wasn’t the outcome he wanted, but he knew it might end up being what they needed to do to survive, and complaining about that would only hurt his father.

So instead of protesting, he just nodded and squeezed Tom’s arm, even as the throbbing in his head increased. “It’s okay, Dad. I get it. If we have to move, then we have to move.”

Relief was clear on Tom’s face. “Thanks, hon. I appreciate you understanding.”

Kevin nodded, even as he was still inwardly reeling. He couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to everyone he knew and leaving Riverdale forever.

“How’s school going for you?” Tom asked abruptly, with a gaze that Kevin could sense was studying him. “No one’s . . . no one’s been giving you any trouble about all of this, have they?”

Willing his voice to be as natural as possible, Kevin made sure not to respond either too quickly or too hesitantly. “School is great,” he replied smoothly, pushing aside the guilt that began to course through him at the lie. “Everything’s fine.”

* * *

School wasn’t great, and it certainly wasn’t fine. Cheryl Blossom had made certain of that.

Every day at school ever since Cheryl had begun his vendetta against his family, using the Vixens as her personal attack squad to do it, there had been a new insult graffitied across his locker in the morning.  _ Ugly loser _ had been one, and  _ Faggot coward _ had been another, both etched onto the metal door in clear, bold letters. The distinct handwriting was unmistakably Cheryl’s, and the sharpie ink in her signature color of red made the vandal’s identity so blatant that Kevin knew it could only be a taunt designed to deliberately provoke him into going to Principal Weatherbee. He was intent on never doing that, knowing he would be playing right into Cheryl’s hands once he did. 

Each time a janitor scrubbed one of the insults away, another appeared within twenty-four hours, until the janitors simply decided not to bother anymore. Currently, Kevin’s locker bore the judgement  _ Son of Sam _ . It was a reference that didn’t actually make sense, given his own situation and the actual motivations of the real Son of Sam killer, but Cheryl had never been one to have her love of the dramatic constrained by legitimate logic or reasoning.

Perhaps vexed at being unable to harass him via vandalism, Cheryl had taken to leaving newspaper clippings about the Black Hood—from his first appearance in the shooting at Pop Tate’s to his attempted murder of Moose and Midge to his actual murder of Midge—taped to his locker, but never in a way that would obscure her initial attempts at defacement. One way or another, Cheryl was determined to remind Kevin of the Black Hood, as well as his father’s failure to catch him.

And with each fresh morning, as Kevin walked up to his locker to put away his books and spotted whatever gruesome news story Cheryl had plastered onto his locker, he wondered why he’d ever bothered to be nice to her. 

But at least it was a mistake he would never make again, Kevin resolved as he removed his morning textbooks, the sharp pinch of an oncoming headache already assaulting his skull.

The graffiti and newspaper clippings weren’t Cheryl’s only attempt to harass him, though. Every time Kevin walked to a different class, there was a group of River Vixens to follow behind him, walking so close that he could feel their breath on his neck. Sometimes there were as many as six, sometimes there would be only three. And usually, Cheryl was there, leading the crowd of cheerleaders in their blue and white uniforms, a smirk on her red-painted lips.

None of the Vixens ever did anything to him, and Kevin never found it at all threatening, just irritating. All the same, though, he was getting fed up with it, just plain sick and tired of Cheryl’s attempts to psych him out and mess with his head. Plainly, he found it juvenile—and besides, it wasn’t as if he was ever going to forget what was done to Midge. 

But all along, he knew Cheryl was more aggressive than passive and that she would never be satisfied with making her disdain of him known only through a distance. She would do something more direct before very long.

And she did so, at the end-of-season varsity athlete awards ceremony.

It wasn’t an event Kevin was particularly looking forward to, simply because at the moment, he didn’t like the idea of sitting still and doing nothing for very long. He wanted— _ needed _ —to be constantly on the move, to make sure his plans were working, or if they weren’t, that he had a contingency strategy ready to go. And the awards ceremony, which took place at the end of every athletic season, always went on  _ forever _ . Every athlete who scored enough points in their respective game would be awarded a varsity letter, while one of the River Vixens would read a brief tribute about that athlete’s individual accomplishments. In between, various coaches and team captains gave speeches. It was an agonizingly long affair. 

A part of Kevin couldn’t help but find the ceremony pretentious and self-congratulatory, but another part of him knew that putting in the work and time to be a part of one of the teams was something to be proud of, especially since he had achieved a letter this year. He was the only other sophomore beyond Chuck Clayton to do so; Archie hadn’t won enough of his matches to win a letter.

Still, he spent most of the ceremony mentally reviewing the footage he’d taken of the various candidacy announcements. He’d filmed both Fred and Hermione announcing their plans to run. He’d been over both mayoral candidacy declarations  a dozen times each, trying to spot any weaknesses of Hermione’s they could exploit and any weaknesses of Fred that they needed to amend. 

Even as the wrestling team was called to the stage to receive their awards, Kevin was more focused on mentally reviewing his election prep task list than what was taking place across the stage before him. There was still the matter of polling locations—now that they were swaying voters to their side, they had to make sure those voters knew where to go. And then there was the issue of transport for people who couldn’t make it their own their own, either due to poor health or a lack of a vehicle.

Maybe he could talk with Jughead about setting up some kind of transportation system, Kevin reasoned, only half-paying attention as Chuck received his varsity letter. But as his own name was called, Kevin snapped to attention. And then his heart sank when he saw which Vixen particular was supposed to read his tribute: Cheryl Blossom.

_ Of course. _

While he walked over the table where Josie stood to give him his varsity letter, Cheryl marched over to the podium, the stiletto heels she wore even with her cheerleading uniform clicking on the wooden floor. Kevin steeled himself for whatever disdain was sure to spill out of her mouth.

And Cheryl did not disappoint.

“I’m sure many of you know Kevin Keller,” she said, derision clear in her voice. “He’s here with us right now as the star of the wrestling team. But what you might not know about Kevin is that he was the one directing our spring musical.”

Kevin felt his entire body tense at her words, and he clenched his hands into fists, his heart pounding. He had a very unpleasant suspicion of where Cheryl was going with her speech. Josie cast him a worried look, also unsettled by where the speech was leading.

“In fact, it was Kevin who cast our dearly beloved and now deceased Midge Klump in her role as Carrie,” Cheryl went on. “He made the decision  that ultimately led to her murder. So not only do we have his father, Sheriff Tom Keller, to thank for failing in his job and letting a murderer run loose on our streets, but it was our very own Kevin Keller who signed my Vixen sister Midge’s death warrant.” 

Gasps and murmurs broke out among the audience, but whether it was due to surprise at the revelation or surprise at Cheryl’s aggression, Kevin wasn’t sure. He didn’t particularly care at the moment, either. His stomach was churning with a combination of familiar grief and guilt, and he just wanted to sink through the floor. 

“Let’s give him a round of applause, everybody!” Sarcasm dripped from Cheryl’s tone, and she turned to aim a nasty smile Kevin’s way. “Congratulations on you directorial debut, Kevin! Not many manage to rack up a body count on their first try. Maybe when you go on to Broadway, you can direct _ Spider-Man: Turn Off _ —”

She was cut off by Coach Clayton striding up to the podium and grabbing the microphone away from her.

“That’s enough, Cheryl,” he said firmly. “Please go and speak to Mr. Weatherbee this instant. And for the rest of the ceremony, I’ll be handing out the awards.” He looked at Kevin, apology written all over his face. “Kevin, you’ve had a fantastic wrestling season. Thank you for coming out onto the mat for Riverdale this year.”

A strange sensation of detachment flooding through him, as if he were merely a spectator of the events and not the subject, Kevin merely nodded numbly and gently tugged the varsity letter from Josie’s limp hands as she stared at Cheryl in shock. Then he turned around and walked off of the stage, his entire body beginning to shake.

He didn’t remember leaving the auditorium, but suddenly he was out in the hall, his eyes struggling to adjust to the increased light. His previous numbness was rapidly being overwhelmed by a delayed sense of panic, his pulse rushing through his veins. A new headache was hammering against his skull, worse than any other time before, and the trembling in his legs worsened, to the point that Kevin could no longer walk. He was forced to stumble to halt to lean up against the closest wall to remain upright. His lungs seemed to becoming more and more heavy in his chest, and he realized that he was now struggling to breathe, he could no longer take in enough oxygen.

“Kevin?”

He heard the voice calling to him before he registered the approaching footsteps, and he dimly recognized it as Josie’s. He tried to turn toward the direction where he thought the sounds were coming from, but the motion had the hall spinning around him. It wasn’t until he felt a strong arm latch around his waist that he regained some of his balance.

“Damn, you’re rough shape,” Josie observed worriedly. “Can you talk to me?”

“Hey, Jo,” he managed to grate out, even though he couldn’t focus on his friend’s face.

Josie huffed. “Okay, that’s something. Listen, the music rooms are just around the corner. If we get there, you can sit down there, all right?”

“Sure,” Kevin gasped out, bracing himself for the brief walk.

Somehow, they managed to make it to a music room. Kevin had to fight through his dizziness all of the way, and it was only by sheer determination that he made it there. Though Josie kept an arm around him for support, but Kevin knew she was too petite to hold someone of his height. By the time they reached the room, he collapsed onto one of the benches, still fighting to breathe.

Josie instantly sat down beside him, reaching a hand behind him to rub soothing circles on his back. “Hey, it’s all right now. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

While grateful for the comfort, Kevin couldn’t concentrate on it, his mind ablaze with thoughts and memories as he struggled for breath. 

_ Midge’s surprise and then delight when he offered her the role of Carrie.  _

_ The cold shock and then horror that ran through him at the sight of her lifeless body, pinned to the set by knives.  _

_ His father sitting at the desk in his study, drinking heavily and contemplating his badge, his gun on the desk and within easy reach beside him. _

“Hey, Kev, it’s okay,” Josie told him, using the other hand to stroke his hair. “Relax. You can relax now. It’s going to be all right.”

_ The guilt he’d felt at trying to cheat with Moose the first time, and the guilt and anger he’d felt when Moose tried to dupe him into helping him cheat on Midge a second time. _

_ The weariness of fighting for Fred’s campaign day in, day out, a battle that seemed impossible to win but one that he couldn’t afford to lose. _

_ The pride he’d held in his wrestling record this season, only to have it swept away by Cheryl and her commitment to cruelty. _

It was such a mess. Everything in his life was just so utterly fucked.

“Kevin?” Josie’s voice grew a touch frantic. “Kevin, listen, I’m here. You’re all right. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. You can get through this.”

_ You can get through this. _

He had to. He had to be able to make things right. He had to get back his father’s job, stop the Southside from being turned into a prison, stop his friends in the Serpents from becoming potential inmates. He had to get Fred elected. And he had to honor Midge’s memory, remember the kindness she showed to him when no one else did.

He couldn’t let Cheryl destroy all of that. He refused to let her bully him into submission or panic. 

Concentrated on his breathing, Kevin tried to test the limits of how much air he could take in, and found himself slowly inhaling and exhaling. At the same time, he gradually became aware of his pulse slowing down and the shakiness in his limbs relenting. And then, much to his relief, he was finally able to breathe evenly again. His headache decreased, still ebbing away at the edges, but far less intense.

Now able to focus on Josie, he turned to her, managing a slight smile. “Hey, sorry about the scare. Was kind of in a bad place for a moment there.”

Josie gave him a smile in return, relief replacing the concern on her face. “It’s all right. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was about ready to phone for an ambulance.”

“No need,” Kevin said, shaking his head, a brief rush of dizziness returning at the motion but then vanishing again. “But thank you. Not just for helping me, but for coming and checking on me after what Cheryl did.” Anger rushed through him again when he remembered Cheryl excoriating him and his father in front of the entire school. “It was good to have someone. You know, after what happened,” he added awkwardly.

Josie laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, I know what it’s like to have Cheryl come after you.”

Kevin looked at her in confusion. “I thought you two were friends? I mean, I knew you’d argued recently, but I don’t know what about. . .” he trailed off as Josie already began shaking her head.

“She was stalking me,” Josie said flatly. “Cheryl, I mean. Last fall, when the Black Hood was at large, I started receiving these gifts and drawings from a secret admirer. Cheryl knew about it. She kept on joking that maybe it was the Black Hood.” Josie grimaced. “She’d been wanting me to come to a recording studio to meet with an exec for a little while back then, but I hadn’t agreed yet. Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled at the chance, but I didn’t want to leave Melody or Valerie behind. But then someone left notes in their their lockers telling them that I was ditching them to go solo. So the Pussycats ended up breaking up for a while.” She sighed. “Then I was sent a bloody pig’s heart in a box with a note that threatened me. And would you guess who had been sending those packages and notes all along?”

Kevin stared at her. “ _ Cheryl? _ Cheryl was doing all of that?”

“Bingo,” Josie said wearily, rubbing at her forehead with one a hand.

A knock on the open door of the room interrupted them, bringing them to glance up at the front of the room. Chuck Clayton stood in the entryway, his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, guys, I don’t mean to bother you,” he apologized. “But Kevin, my dad and I talked for a minute, and he thought that someone should go check on you after Cheryl tore into you back there.”

Still processing all that Josie had told him, Kevin could barely manage more than a nod. “Thanks, Chuck. That was really nice of you. But I’m fine.” It wasn’t the truth given all that he still had to endure, but as he sat with Josie, he felt better than he had in a long while.

Chuck hesitated. “You sure?”

“Fine.” Kevin smiled at him. “Go on back to the ceremony, Chuck. And congratulations on winning your letter. You’ve earned it.”

Chuck smiled back at him. “You, too. Well, later, then. And hey, Josie,” he added.

“Hi, Chuck,” Josie said, sending him a fond glance. But the happy expression didn’t last; the moment Chuck turned and walked out the door, her face became serious again.

“Cheryl pinned the blame for stalking me on Chuck,” she told Kevin lowly. “He was flirting with me at the time, and I guess Cheryl was just jealous. I told her that I didn’t really trust him, and then she latched on to it, trying to convince me that he was the one responsible. Once I got the pig’s heart, she accused him outright, and I was so scared that I didn’t even know what to do. Chuck got in trouble with Principal Weatherbee and your dad, and there was talk that he might be expelled since he’d already been the one to start the playbook. But then I found out from Cheryl’s mom a few weeks back that Cheryl had been the one stalking me all along. Chuck turned out to be innocent.”

_ “Jesus,” _ Kevin said, filled with fresh disgust for Cheryl and her determination to hurt people. “Are you going to press charges against Cheryl?” 

“I thought about it,” Josie admitted. “When I found out that Cheryl had been the one stalking me, I was distraught. I mean, she’d been my friend. And then to find out that she was tormenting me, poisoning me against other people, poisoning my friends against me? It was devastating. And I felt felt so guilty that Chuck got the blame for what Cheryl did. I wanted to clear his name, so I went to my mom, your dad, and Chuck’s parents right away and explained the whole thing. Then we all told Mr. Weatherbee. Mrs. Blossom backed me up. She’s a piece of work, too,” Josie added vehemently. “Putting her daughter in that conversion therapy hellhole. If I’d known about that, I wouldn’t have hesitated a moment to go find Cheryl with you, Veronica, and Toni, and I never would have asked Mrs. Blossom to help me tell everyone else. I hate what Cheryl did to me, but I never would have left her there if I’d known where her mom put her. But because she was stuck there, now I don’t feel right getting her into trouble with the police.”

“God.” Kevin scrubbed at his face with his hands, feeling as though he’d been hit with a freight train after all that he’d learned. “So she ruined your life and Chuck’s. What an asshole. And to think I gave her the role of Carrie even though she could barely sing because I felt sorry for what had happened to her.”

“The worst part is, she only became obsessed with me because I rescued her from Nick St. Clair.” Josie let out a mirthless chuckle. “Guess this is what they mean when they say no good deed goes unpunished, huh? I help one friend, I lose all the rest of them, and then her, too.” She sighed. “It’s the same tired old tale: a white girl hurts a black girl, and then that white girl gets away with it by blaming it on a black boy. It’s the whites keeping down the blacks, pure and simple.”

Kevin turned to face Josie directly. “I’m sorry that she did that to you and to Chuck. She’s horrible for terrorizing you and then making him into a scapegoat. But you haven’t lost me. I’m still your friend.”

“Thanks.” Josie offered him a weak smile. “You know, you’re the only one of my friends who really listened to me talk about this, you know? Toni and Veronica know about what Cheryl did to me, but it doesn’t seem all that high on their priority list.”

Reaching out to grasp one of her hands, Kevin gave her fingers a squeeze. “Hey, what are almost-stepsiblings for?”

Josie’s smile grew stronger. “I’d be really happy to have you as a stepsibling. I heard your dad talking to my mom about how he told you that you two might be moving. But I hope you stay. I really like both you and your dad, and I haven’t seen my mom this happy in years.” 

“I hope we can stay,” Kevin replied wistfully, even as he barely dared to hope. “Not just because I think you’d make a kickass stepsister, but also because I want to stick it to the Lodges.”

“Ha!” Josie grinned. “I can drink to that. You’re campaigning for Fred, right? Let me help out. I’ve been meaning to get around to volunteering, but I’ve been busy making things right with Val and Mel and getting the band back together. But you can count me in now.”

“Me, too.”

The new voice brought Kevin and Josie’s attention back toward the door; Chuck was reentering the room.

He approached them and handed Kevin a bottle of blue Gatorade and a bag of Chex mix. “You still looked pretty beat, so I hit up the vending machines. I thought you could use something to eat and drink.”

“Thanks, Chuck.” Kevin accepted the food with a smile. “I really appreciate it.”

Josie gave Chuck a smile as well. “You’re a good guy, Chuck.”

While not unhappy, Chuck didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the praise, hesitating a moment too long in his response, as if he barely dared to believe it. In the end, he acknowledged Josie’s compliment with a nod before going back to the original subject. “I’d like to help out with campaigning for Fred, too, if that’s okay. I know people on the Southside. I don’t want them getting unfairly rounded up to be numbers on a paycheck for a for-profit prison.”

“We’d be grateful for any kind of help you could give,” Kevin said sincerely. “Actually,” he checked his watch “classes are almost over for the day, and we’re having a strategy meeting for the student campaign leaders in the Swords & Serpents room. But both of you are welcome to come along,” he invited them.

“Sounds like a plan,” Chuck agreed.

“Great. Let’s get moving.” Kevin started to rise, but Chuck extended a hand and gently pushed him back into his seat.

“Hold on just a minute,” Chuck cautioned him. “Drink something of that Gatorade, will you? At least down to the label. You’ve been stressed, so you should probably keep hydrated.”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure.” Kevin obediently twisted the cap off of the Gatorade bottle and started taking small sips. He tried not to pay too much attention to the warm, comforting weight of Chuck’s hand, which remained on his shoulder the entire time.

* * *

They didn’t make it to the next classroom without incident. Just as they were walking down the final hallway before they reached the room, Cheryl rounded the corner, spotted Kevin, and then strode up to him, her eyes blazing with anger.

“I just wanted to let you know that if you think I’m finished with you, you are sorely mistaken,” she said hotly, walking up to him to jab a finger into his chest. “I haven’t even gotten  _ started _ with you.”

“Cheryl, back off,” Josie ordered her immediately. “For once in your life, just give up on trying to make people miserable.”

Cheryl gave an arrogant toss of her hair. “I should have known someone like you wouldn’t have any Vixen loyalty, Josie. I can’t believe you’re choosing to throw in with the likes of a  _ Keller _ ,” she tossed Kevin a venomous look, “over Midge, your fallen Vixen sister.”

“Oh, please,” Josie replied disgustedly. “Like you give a damn about Vixen loyalty. Everyone saw you making out with Moose at Jughead’s birthday party. And it’s not like you ever bothered with Midge—I was there when Principal Weatherbee announced the Southside merge and you immediately began throwing a tantrum about it. Midge tried to reach out to you, and you just went on a rant about how the Southside students being here was going to ruin your life. So if you ask me, you’re just using an innocent girl’s death as an excuse to bully someone you don’t like, all the while pretending you were her best friend.”

“Yeah, it’s gross as hell,” Chuck added.

“Oh, well, you would know about being gross, wouldn’t you?” Cheryl whirled on Chuck. “You’re a misogynist who treats women like objects and harasses them when they don’t put out for you.”

Chuck’s hands clenched into fists, but his voice remained steady when he replied. “I’m not going to deny that I’ve been a bastard in the past and hurt a lot of people. But I’m determined to start over and be a better person now. I’ve changed, and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to prove that. And if you notice,” he added, his voice hardening “as of right now, you’re the only person harassing anyone. Going by what you did to Josie and what you’re doing to Kevin now, you aren’t planning on changing or even bothering to try. You’re never going to stop picking your next target and going after them with all you have.”    

Cheryl only sneered at him before turning back to Kevin. “Don’t think your noble defenders are going to do you any good. I’m out for your blood, Kevin Keller. All of it. And I’m not going to stop at fucking around with your locker or giving you the public dressing-down you so richly deserve—”

“Which was a dick move, by the way,” a new voice cut in.

Toni, Jughead, and Betty had arrived on the scene, all of them scowling at Cheryl. It was Toni who had spoken. 

She had her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. “I know you’re upset about Midge dying. You have every right to be. It was horrifying. It was brutal. But you shouldn’t take that out on anyone but the person who killed her. I mean, how the hell is messing with an awards ceremony going to help? And screwing with Kevin’s locker?” Toni looked from Betty to Josie. “Did either of you two know about this? Or what she was planning on doing today?”

“Not at all,” Josie said, glaring holes at Cheryl. “Believe me, if I’d known, I’d have put a stop to it.”

Betty shook her head. “I didn’t know, either. I don’t know if Veronica knew or not, though.”

Cheryl rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Toni. Don’t tell me your taking a Keller’s side over mine. Have you forgotten that his father arrested you?”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten any of the wrongs done to the Southside,” Toni replied wearily. “But I won’t stand to see more wrongs done to it. That’s why I’m campaigning for the Lodges’ opposition.”

“But the Lodges only want to build a prison—” Cheryl began, but Toni interrupted.

“They want to build a  _ for-profit _ prison,” Toni ground out. “The justice system is already corrupt. Who do you think they’re going to be rounded up and given an unfair trial to stick inmates in this prison? My friends. My neighbors. We’re going to be the ones targeted, the ones unfairly accused so the Lodges can make a tidy sum off of our misery. And I refuse to stand for that.” She looked Cheryl directly in the eye. “For that matter, I refuse to stand for anyone who would stand for that.”

For the first time, Cheryl faltered, an uncertain expression crossing her face. “Toni . . . you don’t mean . . . I mean, the two of us, we’re still . . .”

Toni sighed. “We’ll talk about it later. But for now, my friends and I have to talk about how to get a mayor elected who isn’t going to bulldoze my neighborhood to make room for a detention center.” She pulled open the classroom door and gestured to the rest of the group. “Come on, let’s get started.”    

As Kevin watched, Cheryl opened and closed her mouth several times as if trying to say something but unable to form the words. She stared at Toni, who ignored her in favor of turning her back on her and entering the classroom. Upon seeing her go, Cheryl spun on her heel and walked away.

“Good riddance,” Josie said emphatically, grabbing Kevin and Chuck each by the hand and pulling them through the door, leading Kevin to shoot her a grateful smile.

Initially, Kevin had been curious about Betty’s presence at their meeting; as far as he knew, she had never shown any particular interest in Fred’ campaign or the Southside’s issues before. But he quickly got the answer when he heard what Jughead and Betty were discussing.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just take one night off to have dinner with me,” Betty was saying to Jughead. “It’s like you’re obsessed with the Southside.” 

“Betty, the Southside is where I grew up. It’s home. And I have an obligation to stand up for the people there who can’t stand up for themselves,” Jughead explained.

Betty let out a huff. “Yeah, have fun with that.” She brushed past the assembled group and left the room without saying goodbye to anyone.

For a moment, Jughead simply watched her go, and Kevin noticed the indecision on his face, as if he were about to call Betty back. Knowing he needed to get all hands on deck for his new proposal, Kevin quickly directed Jughead’s attention toward himself.

“So, as you can see, I found two more volunteers to help out with the campaign,” he said, indicating Chuck and Josie.

“Hey,” Chuck said with an even nod.

“Happy to be here,” Josie said, settling down to lounge in a chair.

Jughead gave them a sincere, if tired, smile, looking slightly happier than he did before. “Welcome aboard.”

Pleased that he managed to reinspire their leader, Kevin removed his laptop from his Jansport athletic backpack. “That’s not all, though. I’ve been reviewing both of the candidacy announcements, and I think I have an idea for one of Mr. Andrews’s platforms. We just need to check if he’ll agree.”

Jughead shrugged. “Fred’s a fairly open-minded guy—or, at least, less hellbent on an agenda than Hermione and Hiram Lodge. Let’s see what you got.”

* * *

As it happened, Fred did approve of Kevin’s idea, and he made sure to incorporate it into his campaign. At the town hall debate, he made a formalized address of his latest platform during his closing remarks. Kevin watched from backstage, Toni beside him, as Fred spoke.

“The main reason I’m running for office is to ensure that Riverdale can remain a place that is safe for our children. I don’t want them to just grow up here. I want to build a future for them here, so that they can in turn build a stronger Riverdale for their children. I want Riverdale to be a place that people can live without fear,” Fred told the audience.

Though he tried to keep his eyes riveted on Fred, Kevin couldn’t help a creeping feeling of dread and nervousness. He couldn’t help but recall that last time when he was hanging around a backstage, it was the opening night of the musical. The night when Midge would be murdered.

Closing his eyes, he tried to push the thought away, but he couldn’t erase the sense of foreboding from his weary mind. A headache was once again taking form, pinching sharply at the back of his head.

“Hey.” Toni nudged him with an elbow. “You okay?”

Kevin nodded, trying to force away the pain. “I can make it.”

“Good.” Toni smoothed down her skirt for the seventh time in two minutes, the only manifestation of her nervousness. Tonight she had left behind her typical jeans and flannel in favor of a smart skirt and sweater set she’d borrowed from Josie. “Just a few minutes, and then we’re in the clear, all right?”

“Yeah.” Kevin swallowed, willing his hands to stop shaking at the knowledge that in just seconds, he would be standing before Riverdale’s assembled townspeople. 

_ Do this for Dad, _ he told himself sternly.  _ Do this for the Southside, for your friends and all the kids growing up there. Think of all the people you’ll be able to help. _

“But while I’m campaigning on a foundation of family values, I want it also to be known that I’m not against progress, and I don’t believe that old-fashioned is automatically superior,” Fred continued. “As some of you may know, there’s a juvenile detention center on the outskirts of Riverdale known as the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. It’s come under suspicion numerous times in the past decade for its outdated and ethically questionable methods. Attempts to determine the authenticity of such reports have always been stonewalled, or they’ve passed a basic state inspection and therefore been allowed to keep their doors open. But recently, it’s been rumored that this supposed institution of God has been imprisoning teenagers and practicing illicit conversion therapy. If I am elected mayor, I pledge to launch a full investigation of the Sisters and their practices.”

The final line was the cue for Toni and Kevin to join Fred onstage. Toni gave Kevin’s shoulder a squeeze before they walked out front, side by side. Kevin’s heart hammered as the spotlights bore down on him and he glimpsed the sea of faces out in the audience. He nearly froze when his eyes landed on one face in particular: Cheryl. She sat toward the front, in an aisle seat, one brow partially quirked and her lips set in a smirk. But he hadn’t been afraid of her before, and he wasn’t afraid of her now. So he merely held his head high and matched Toni’s even pace as they joined Fred at the podium, Toni coming to stand on Fred’s left and Kevin stationing himself on his right.

“Two brave teenagers have come to me with accounts of what the Sisters are doing behind the walls of their convent,” Fred said. “They are Riverdale’s own Antoinette Topaz and Kevin Keller, and if I am elected, they will serve as junior advisors on the task force I will put together to investigate the legality of the Sisters’ operations. And I will make sure it is exposed and amended if any children are suffering under the Sisters’ care. My opponent may believe that the only solution to keeping Riverdale safe is to lock people away,” he cast a meaningful look at Hermione Lodge “but if we truly want to protect our children, Riverdale’s children, we first must free them from those who have unjustly locked  _ them _ away. Toni and Kevin have agreed to help me, and I hope you will, too. I believe in tradition, but for this matter, the traditions that the Sisters of Quiet Mercy are following must end. And I  _ will _ end them.”

Applause followed Fred’s statement, and victory surged through Kevin, but it wasn’t the former that induced the latter. It was the shock and rage on Cheryl’s face as she stared up at him, her displeasure evident.

_ Sorry, Cheryl, but the Lodges aren't into living and letting live, and neither are you, _ Kevin thought with distinct satisfaction.  _ You wanted to win by hurting people. We’re going to win by helping people. _

* * *

As the attendees of the debate filed out the town hall doors, Josie came up to congratulate Kevin and Toni.

“You did great!” Josie said enthusiastically, looking at them with a wide grin.

Toni gave a modest shrug. “We didn’t really do anything. We just stood there while Fred talked.”

“Still, you had good stage presence,” Josie observed. “Maybe you two have future careers as politicians!”

“Don’t count on it,” Cheryl snapped as she stalked up to join them, placing her hands on her hips. “What is the meaning of this? You’re conspiring to use my own trauma against me? Have you shame? Have you no  _ class _ ?”

Kevin took a deep breath. He had known that after Cheryl heard Fred’s announcement, she would be enraged. And on some level, she had a right to be. But he also wanted to make a point.

“Cheryl,” he began in an as even voice as he could manage, “those kids back at the convent need our help. Right now, there’s nothing that can be done. The state has allowed the Sisters to remain operating. But if Fred gets elected, we can make sure to get those kids out. We need to shut the Sisters down, and we need the power of the mayor’s office to help us do that.”

“We’re both sorry about what happened to you, that your mother took you there,” Toni added. “But conversion therapy isn’t your trauma and your trauma alone. And it’s not Kevin’s responsibility and his responsibility alone to shut it down. It’s up to us, all of us, as human beings, to end it for good. It’s an atrocity, and it needs to be stopped by all of us.”

“Oh, spare me your precious sentiments,” Cheryl sneered. “I can’t believe you betrayed me like this. I thought you were my girlfriend, but it turns out you’re nothing more than a lying backstabber.”

“And I could say the same to you,” Toni replied calmly. 

In a rare show of uncertainty, Cheryl paused, her eyes searching Toni’s face. “What do you mean?”

Toni let out a long exhale. “When we rescued you from the Sisters, I took you to my grandfather’s trailer and let you stay there. The same trailer that’s in the trailer park that your pals, the Lodges, want to bulldoze. And I gave you clothes to wear so you could have something other than that horrid dress. I literally gave you the clothes off of my back, Cheryl. And then what do you do? You give your support to the Lodges and help the people who want to destroy my community.” Her voice cracked with unshed tears. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

“But—but I helped you at the Pickens Day protest!” Cheryl argued.

Toni’s voice was steely in spite of her gathering tears. “That doesn’t count if you turn around and throw in with the Lodges and their determination to take everything that’s dear to me. Hell, Cheryl, that makes you helping them even worse, because you knew what they were doing was wrong at one point. And yet you still turned your back on me!”

“I wasn’t doing it to hurt you, though!” Cheryl insisted. She jabbed a finger in Kevin’s direction. “I was just doing it to get rid of Sheriff Keller!”

One tear began streaking down Toni’s face, but she wiped it away without breaking eye contact with Cheryl. “Is that it, then?” she asked quietly. “Is hurting Keller more important than helping me? Am I—is the entire Southside—just collateral damage in your vendetta? Do we not matter to you as long you get to settle your own personal grudge matches?” Toni shook her head. “Relationships are a two-way street, Cheryl. I can’t be giving you everything while you plot to kill the poor with scumbags like the Lodges. This is me standing up for myself. You and I? We’re over. We’re done.”

“I . . . I . . .” For the second time in two days, Cheryl seemed to be struck speechless. For several long moments, she simply stared at Toni, her mouth agape. But then, her gaze turned to Kevin, and he could see loathing evident all over her face. Suspecting he’d just become the prime target of her ire, Kevin tensed, watching her closely for her next move. 

He didn’t have to wait long. With a toss of her hair, Cheryl strode closer to him until she was less than a foot away and then spat directly onto his cheek.

Then, with another flip of her hair, the ends whipping Kevin in the face this time, Cheryl flounced away, almost colliding with Chuck as he approached the group.

Expression outraged, Josie started to go after Cheryl, but Toni grabbed her by the wrist. 

“Don’t,” she said wearily. 

Josie was seething. “But she  _ spat  _ on Kevin—” 

Toni shook her head. “It’s not worth it. Cheryl is desperate to fight someone right now. Don’t give her an excuse to draw blood. She does it often enough without being provoked.”

“Gotta agree with that,” Chuck said as he joined them. “You know, I feel bad about what that girl goes through, but you’d think that after a while, it might have helped her feel empathy for another human being every once in a while.”

“You said it.” Kevin reached up to brush Cheryl’s saliva off of his face, but Chuck offered him a tissue. 

He accepted it gratefully, even as a stab of self consciousness pierced through him at Chuck, high school athletic royalty, witnessing yet another episode of Cheryl humiliating him. But when he dared a glance at Chuck, he saw nothing but warmth and compassion in his eyes.

“I agree, too, but let’s stop talking about Cheryl,” Toni suggested, rubbing her forehead. “It’s been a big night, and I want to wind down.”

Chuck slid his hands into his pockets. “I was just coming to invite you all to Pop’s. But I guess it’s not such a good idea right now, huh?”

Kevin was replying before he even realized what was happening. “I’d be game.” The words didn’t register until they were out of his mouth, and once they did, he wondered if they were the right thing to say.

But Chuck accepted his answer a grin. “Cool.” He glanced at Toni and Josie. “Either of you ladies up for it?”

Toni hesitated, but then she smiled. “You know what? I think I could use some comfort food. Let’s go.” She turned to Josie. “You want in?”

Josie grinned at her. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The four of them began the walk to the parking lot of the town hall, Josie and Toni taking the lead while Chuck and Kevin fell into step behind them. 

“You all right?” Chuck murmured to Kevin as they reached the exit. “You’ve been through a lot recently.”

Meeting Chuck’s gaze, Kevin saw genuine concern there, and a sudden tightness seized his throat. He was lucky, he realized. As awful as circumstances might have been for him, he still wasn’t without his friends. Chuck, who made a conscious effort to make sure he was okay whenever Cheryl went out of her way to antagonize him. Josie, who helped take care of him and stood up to Cheryl for him again and again. And Toni and Jughead, who let him help out with Fred’s campaign even though they knew his motivations weren’t precisely unselfish.

“Out of everyone Cheryl has brought grief to, I think I emerged most unscathed,” Kevin replied honestly. “But thanks,” he added softly. “For checking up on me. It’s really kind of you, Chuck.”

Chuck gave a shrug. “That’s how I’m trying to be these days.”

“You’re doing a good job,” Kevin told him warmly.

Chuck smiled at him, and Kevin smiled back before his gaze drifted back over to Josie and Toni. He watched as Josie deftly descended the entrance’s concrete steps in front of them in spite of her stiletto heels, and then extended a hand to help Toni, whose movements were somewhat shakier, no doubt due to the unfamiliarity of walking around in pumps. Toni readily accepted Josie’s hand, but Kevin couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t let go even as they reached level ground again.

He glanced over at Chuck to see if he’d noticed as well and found that Chuck had and was now looking toward him as well. Their gazes met, and then, as if inspired by Toni’s example, Chuck reached out and took hold of Kevin’s hand, grasping it gently as they walked, giving Kevin another smile.

“This all right?” he asked quietly as they all reached Kevin’s truck to begin the drive to Pop’s.

“This is fine,” Kevin replied with conviction, and he realized that, for the first time since Midge’s death, the reassurance was actually true.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone reading! If you ever want to chat, here's my [Tumblr](http://maeve-of-winter.tumblr.com/). I love discussion and hearing people's thoughts, so feel free to submit ideas or just talk Riverdale.


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